‘How long does it take to get a doll from the car?’ I said, as Maisie ran up to her dad and grabbed her favourite Barbie. I’d been pacing around our room for what felt like ages, chewing my thumbnail, trying to shake the feeling of dread that had descended.
‘I got talking to a couple who’d been for a walk up Knocknarea Mountain.’ Greg sounded unconcerned, as if I hadn’t blurted out that something must have happened to Colleen. Either that, or he didn’t care. ‘They’ve been to see Yeats’s grave as well,’ he went on, throwing his keys on the bed. ‘I couldn’t help thinking that’s what we should be doing.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘We can’t go hiking up mountains with a three-year-old,’ I said. ‘And how can you think about that when I don’t know where Colleen is?’
‘I still don’t get why you’re so worried.’ Frustration sharpened Greg’s tone. ‘After all the trouble she’s caused.’
‘She’s left her phone behind,’ I said, in case he’d forgotten that part.
A frown touched his brow. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?’ He was making an effort to keep his voice light for Maisie’s benefit. ‘She’s probably just gone for a walk.’
Had she gone because of what I’d said? Another thought sprang up before I could stop it: maybe Greg had responded to her kiss and she’d felt so guilty she couldn’t face me again. Pushing the suspicion down, I said, ‘I’m sure I saw her last night, staggering away from the hotel.’
Greg’s expression hardened. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing if she’s done a runner,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to see her again.’
‘Greg, don’t be like that.’
I picked Maisie’s pyjamas up off the floor and folded them. ‘Go and find your toothbrush, sweetheart.’ She smiled, and tottered into the bathroom, brandishing Barbie like a sword.
I turned to Greg. ‘She’s only got a rucksack with her and hardly any clothes,’ I said, keeping my voice low. ‘That’s why she didn’t get changed for dinner last night. It’s as if she wasn’t prepared for meeting us at all.’
‘For God’s sake, Ella, she’s been abroad, hasn’t she?’ Greg pointed out. ‘She’s probably used to travelling light.’
‘Surely that would mean she’d have more luggage,’ I persisted, wishing I’d asked more questions. ‘And don’t you think it’s odd that she barely mentioned her trip?’ I recalled her pale-as-milk skin. She hadn’t looked like someone who’d been travelling.
‘I’ve told you what I think of her, Ella.’ Greg looked at me with a tired expression. ‘Just because you’re related, it doesn’t mean you’re automatically going to bond. Or even like each other.’ He paused, and I could see him weighing up whether or not to continue. ‘You should quit now, before you get in any deeper.’
His words sliced through me, sharp and painful. ‘Would that suit you better?’ I’d said it before I could stop myself, and he spun away from me, pushing his hands through his hair.
When he faced me again, his expression was full of pain. ‘You still don’t believe me, do you?’
I couldn’t hold his gaze. ‘Greg, I—’
Cutting me off, he moved over and grabbed my hands. ‘Do you realise what’s happening?’ His voice was strained. ‘You’re choosing to listen to someone you don’t even know, over someone you’ve been living with for years. Someone you love.’
‘Well, they do say love is blind.’ It was a desperate attempt to alleviate the tension, but I regretted the words the instant they flew out.
Greg stepped back, his expression closing. ‘If that’s how you feel, there’s no point me even being here.’
‘Oh, Greg, don’t be silly …’ My words trailed off as Maisie appeared, waving her toothbrush in the bathroom doorway.
‘Got it, Mummy.’
‘Good girl,’ I said. ‘I’ll come and help in a minute.’
Greg’s phone began to ring and he shook his head, moving into the other room to take the call. My mind spun as I watched him go. Nothing was happening the way it was supposed to. I wanted to turn back time, meet Colleen again, but this time I wouldn’t leave the restaurant. I would ask her to tell me what was troubling her, because it was clear to me now that something was.
Tears threatened as I helped Maisie brush her teeth and gather her curls into bunches.
I sat on the bed and let her put lip gloss on me, struggling to find the words to make things right with Greg. If only Colleen would come back. Maybe once I saw her everything would fall into place.
‘That’s enough, darling,’ I said, taking the lip gloss from Maisie before she could dab it on her eyelids.
I became aware of Greg’s voice growing louder.
‘There’s a crisis at work,’ he said, coming back in with a distracted air. ‘A major client is thinking of jumping ship. I’m sorry, but I need to go back.’
Panic hissed in my ears. Was this a ploy to escape a confrontation with Colleen? I scoured his face, my mind flashing back to his broad hands circling her arms in the lift.
‘Sounds bad,’ I said, trying to relax my face muscles. In a way, it would be easier to deal with Colleen on my own, but Greg was my husband—
‘You’re coming too, aren’t you?’ His voice cut through my thoughts, and I was shocked. Not just by his ability to know what I was thinking, but that I hadn’t even considered going home with him. ‘I’ll book a flight for this evening.’
‘Greg … I …’ I cleared my throat. ‘I want to stay.’
His head jerked round. ‘Are you being serious?’
‘Just until I know where she is.’
He studied me for a long moment. I tried to read his thoughts, but his face was blank, and I looked away first. ‘I’m taking Maisie,’ he said. ‘Libby will be thrilled to have her until you get back.’
‘Yay! Auntie Libby!’ Maisie cried, with the easy adaptability of the very young. Or maybe, like Greg, she couldn’t wait to get away from me.
‘I don’t want her to go back,’ I protested, getting off the bed. ‘This was supposed to be a holiday.’ But even as I spoke, I was trying not to think about how much of what was happening Maisie might be absorbing. I’d stayed strong and cheerful since Mum died, as much for my own sake as hers, but my emotions had become slippery lately. She’d be better off with Greg’s sister and her happy-go-lucky brood.
As Greg called the airport, I reasoned it would only be for a couple more days. Make or break. If I clashed again with Colleen, once I’d found her, that would be the end of it.
‘Not much of a holiday,’ Greg said, after he’d rung off. ‘We shouldn’t have tagged along in the first place.’
‘Why did you then?’
His eyes widened at my tone. ‘I wanted us to spend some time together,’ he said, bleakly, shaking his head. ‘Clearly my mistake.’
‘Oh, Greg. Don’t say that.’
‘Want to go to the beach,’ Maisie said, as if she’d just remembered us talking about it before we came. As her lower lip jutted out, Greg pulled his gaze from mine and transformed his face into a smile.
‘We can still go,’ he said, lifting her off the bed with such care my heart contracted. ‘The flight’s not until six so we’ve plenty of time.’ He flashed me a wary glance. ‘Might as well make the most of it.’
I was gripped with panic again. ‘What if Colleen comes back and we’re not here?’
‘Tough.’ Greg’s eyes cooled. ‘If you’re so concerned, leave a message for her at reception. Unless you’d rather stay here.’
His tone was confrontational, but although part of me longed to stay, I wanted to spend a few more precious hours with Maisie. And I didn’t want to part on bad terms with Greg. ‘Let’s go then,’ I said, forcing a brightness I didn’t feel, and was rewarded by Maisie reaching out to give me a kiss, her eyes radiant with excitement.
‘Clever Mummy,’ she said, solemnly patting my overheated cheeks with her hot little hands. ‘I love you very much.’
Tears threatened. ‘I love you too, sweetie.’
After filling a beach bag, I suggested we take the car to Rosses Point Beach. Greg drove the short distance, along a winding road that dipped and rose, revealing the unspoilt countryside and a stretch of glittering sea against a low backdrop of mountains.
‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ he said neutrally, and I nodded in agreement. The heavy silence that fell between us was punctuated by cheerful questions from Maisie, but all the time, my eyes were scouring the landscape, seeking Colleen.
If she’d been as drunk as I suspected when she left the hotel, she could have passed out. Or fallen and broken her ankle and be lying in agony somewhere. Perhaps I should check the local hospital or call the police.
Despite what Greg had said, I wasn’t convinced she’d returned to the hotel at all the night before, let alone gone for a walk that morning. I doubted she was the early morning type, especially if she had a hangover.
I knew if I voiced my concerns to Greg, he’d ask how I thought I knew so much about her in such a short space of time. But it was as if our argument last night and her absence this morning had allowed my initial impressions of her to settle and expand. Her body language, the way her eyes had darted round, her fingers restlessly crumbling the slice of cake, and the snippets of conversation we’d had, flooded back.
She was a woman with secrets.
But I couldn’t say any of it to Greg. He had his own views of Colleen, shaped by whatever had happened after I’d left them alone together, and I knew for now we were on opposite sides of an unbridgeable chasm. He couldn’t understand why I was still drawn to Colleen, when she’d been so cruel to me. I barely understood it myself.
The scenery outside the car window blurred in a haze of tears.
‘Here we are!’ Greg adopted a determinedly cheerful air as he parked a short walk from the pale gold beach, which was bustling with visitors making the most of the sunshine, erecting windbreaks and laying out brightly coloured towels.
Out in the bay, a couple of windsurfers were attempting to ride the barely existent waves, their shouts and laughter drifting on the salty air.
I’d never liked the beach very much as a child, the gritty way the sand invaded my body and clothes, but Maisie was enthralled, wriggling impatiently as I rubbed sun cream into her fair skin.
‘Build sandcastle, Daddy,’ she ordered when I’d finished, pulling buckets and spades out of my bag.
Greg, in baggy combat shorts, removed his canvas shoes and T-shirt. His shoulders glowed brown, where mine were pasty apart from a scattering of freckles.
‘Shall I?’ I held up the sun cream.
‘I can do it myself,’ he said, taking the bottle from me.
Stung, I sat down and wrapped my arms around my knees. The sun was hot, but didn’t seem to be penetrating my skin. I felt chilled in my strapless sundress and whipped out a towel, draping it around me. The sun glanced off the sea to dazzling effect and my temples began to throb.
Watching Greg and Maisie, their heads close together as they dug into the sand and filled their buckets, I felt a pang of something I couldn’t decipher. Dad had never hunkered down with me like that. He’d rarely involved himself in anything I was doing, unless Mum prompted him: ‘Aren’t you going to help Ella with her homework, Andrew? You’re the history genius around here!’
I wondered whether Colleen had grown up with a father figure in her life. My instinct was that she hadn’t. I thought of the message from Reagan and remembered she was supposed to be meeting him today. My heart skipped. Maybe she’d already arranged something and was heading there now. Perhaps once they’d met, she would return to the hotel, keen to share the experience. She might tell him about me and ask about Mum, and come back with some answers for us.
Spirits lifting, I admired Maisie’s sandcastle, which Greg had furnished with elaborate turrets. ‘Fancy a paddle?’ I said, rising. I slipped off my flip-flops and wriggled my toes into the sand, determined to focus on my daughter. But even as I led the dash to the water’s edge, I couldn’t stop imagining how Colleen would be feeling about reuniting with her father. It must be overwhelming for her after all these years, meeting us both within twenty-four hours.
When Maisie had finally had enough of paddling, and of Greg and I swinging her through the frothy waves, we made our way back up the beach to where we’d left our belongings.
‘I’ll go and get us an ice cream,’ Greg offered, to ecstatic handclaps from Maisie. He still hadn’t spoken directly to me, but I sensed a thaw in his attitude and there was a softening around his mouth and eyes.
‘Here,’ I said, pulling my purse from a secret pocket in my bag and passing him a handful of euros. ‘I’ll have a ’99 please.’
‘Me have a ’99 too,’ chirped Maisie, beaming, and Greg and I laughed, knowing she had no idea what it was.
‘Such faith that we’ll come up with exactly what she wants.’
I examined Greg’s words as he strode to the vintage ice-cream kiosk, but couldn’t detect any sarcasm. Hating that I was scrutinising everything he said, I bent to put away my purse, and heard a small vibration from Colleen’s phone, which I’d tucked into my bag.
Checking Maisie was occupied, happily spinning in circles like a Dalek, I slid it out.
A red light was flashing, indicating a text. Stifling a stab of guilt, I opened it.
I’m here, where are you?
It was from Reagan. My heartbeat quickened as another text arrived.
I get it. I didn’t wait on Wednesday, and now you’re punishing me. I don’t blame you. I’ll be here again tomorrow, same time. Please come x
Relieved her phone didn’t have a password, I impulsively typed a reply.
Something came up, I’m sorry. I’ll be there tomorrow. Where is it, again?
He responded right away.
Tate’s Cafe, O’Connell Street.
I didn’t reply. My hands were shaking. There was no way Colleen wouldn’t have gone to meet him today, as arranged. I’d seen how desperate she was.
‘Greg,’ I called as he approached, holding three cones, which were starting to drip in the heat.
‘What is it?’ His expression grew blank, as if readying himself to receive whatever nonsense I was about to spout, and I felt a pinch of anger.
‘They’re melting,’ I said, reaching for the ice creams. I couldn’t tell him. He’d be angry and probably accuse me of being overdramatic again, and the realisation I had neither the strength nor inclination to deal with it sent a shockwave through me. I bit my lip to stop it trembling and made a performance of looking for tissues in my bag to wrap around our cones.
‘I really enjoyed that,’ Greg said later, as we drove back to the hotel. ‘I wish we were here on holiday and that I could stay.’ His voice was laced with regret as he rested a hand on my thigh.
‘Me too,’ I said, but my voice lacked conviction. ‘Eyes on the road,’ I added with a laugh, feeling the heat of his gaze, and didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry when he didn’t respond.
Back at the hotel, I asked at reception whether Colleen had returned.
‘She hasn’t come back,’ I told Greg, back in our room.
‘Maybe she got cold feet and took off somewhere for the day.’
‘She was planning to meet her father,’ I said, not mentioning the text I’d read and replied to.
‘Here?’ His eyebrows drew together. ‘In Sligo?’
I nodded.
He gave a short laugh. ‘Killing two birds with one stone,’ he said, in a way that suggested he wasn’t remotely surprised.
‘Greg.’
He relented. ‘Look, she’s probably having fun with him and lost track of the time. Sorry,’ he finished, misunderstanding my expression. ‘I know it must hurt that she’s with him instead of you, but she’s obviously got problems, Ella.’ He stuffed his clothes into his suitcase while Maisie sprawled on the duvet, cuddling her bunny, her thumb jammed in her mouth.
‘Give her another chance,’ I said, irritation making me snappy. If it hadn’t been for the incident in the lift the night before, I wouldn’t be feeling as if I had to keep things from him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll get a taxi, save you getting lost on the way back here.’ He threw me a look. ‘Sure you don’t want to come with us?’
I looked at Maisie, already missing her. ‘I can’t, Greg.’ I let out a sigh. ‘Please try to understand.’
‘I am trying, Ella, believe me.’ He zipped his suitcase with unnecessary force. ‘I’m worried you’ll end up disappointed.’
This time I held his gaze. ‘Me too.’
We hardly spoke again before he left. We had a snack sent up to our room, but I barely ate as I tried to console a fractious Maisie, who was flushed and overtired.
‘She’s going to be awful on the plane.’ I was close to tears myself. ‘Remember the journey over?’
‘She’ll probably sleep,’ Greg said, a nerve twitching in his jaw. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.’
‘Call when you get home.’
‘Of course.’
We’d been reduced to exchanging platitudes, like casual acquaintances.
I waved them off outside the hotel, choking back tears as their faces dissolved in the glare of late afternoon sun, and my breath caught in my throat when I turned and came face to face with the blue-eyed man I’d bumped into on the stairs the day before. He was film-star handsome in a rather clichéd way: chiselled jaw, glossy dark hair and over six-feet tall.
‘Can I ask you something?’ he said. He was softly spoken, his Irish accent muted.
‘What is it?’
‘I was wondering whether you’d seen Colleen today?’
‘Colleen?’ My stomach flipped. I remembered him pausing to look at her on his way past the restaurant the day before.
‘I saw you talking to her,’ he said.
‘You know Colleen?’
‘Of course.’ He gave a tight-lipped smile that didn’t touch his eyes. ‘I don’t suppose she told you I was here?’
I glanced back at the road, but the taxi carrying my family away had gone. ‘Who are you?’ My gaze swivelled back to the man, but with a leap of intuition I knew what he was going to say.
‘I’m Colleen’s husband, Jake.’ His voice was somehow resigned. ‘I think my wife has disappeared.’